


Ad Astra Per Aspera

by theonehewaitsfor



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Adventure, Childhood Adventure, Coming of Age, F/M, Growing Up, Neverland, play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonehewaitsfor/pseuds/theonehewaitsfor
Summary: Without her stories, Neverland is a dark place. Wendy Darling is taken by Captain James Hook in hopes that her stories will be told once again. The pirates have taken over, including Hook's newest enemy, Captain Dorian Blackheart. Peter Pan is nowhere to be found, despite Wendy's hopes. Little does she know, Hook's kidnapping had another motivation: Show the girl that you love her.
Relationships: Wendy Darling/James Hook
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Flowers wilt upon her writing desk, a candle’s wax dripping down into its collection chamber. Wendy Darling sat tapping her fountain pen against the mahogany surface, a sigh escaping her pouting lips.

“Wendy Moira Angela Darling, what on earth are you huffing about?” Her father questioned, stepping into her bedroom.

“I can’t seem to write anything, father. It’s driving me mad!” She exclaimed, putting the pen down on the desk and climbing to her feet. Her night dress dusted her dainty bare feet.

“Perhaps you need an adventure to inspire you.” He took off his spectacles, rubbing his tired eyes. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his feet shoeless, but still with a pair of woolen socks upon them. The black of his hair was slicked away from his large forehead.

“What sort of adventure would you suggest?” She retorted, walking across the bedroom to lift her heavy robe from over the foot of her bed.

“Your marriage to Adam. Isn’t that the adventure you’ve always dreamed of?”

It took all her strength not to rage against her father at that very moment. “No. I’ve always dreamt of being a pirate.”

“Oh, not this again. Wendy, how many times must your mother and I remind you… You are no longer a child. Your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow! You mustn't act so foolishly. How would Adam feel if he knew?”

Shaking her head, the young woman lifted her curls as she tied the robe around her slender waist. “Thank you for the kind words of advice. Goodnight, father.” She approached him and got upon the tips of her toes to plant a kiss upon his cheek. He left her at once, closing the door behind him.

Wendy made her way across the room and checked the lock upon the window. It’s hook was tightly wrapped around the small gold knob. With that reassurance, she crossed the room and climbed beneath the down comforter upon her bed. With only the dim candlelight, she read her favorite story once again, the story she had written about Peter Pan. It had been the first and last thing Wendy wrote.

As she put the book back down, she thought of Peter. She had not seen him in several years. Not since she had left Neverland. Part of her felt guilty still, leaving him behind. But she knew it had to be done. After all, as her father said, she couldn’t stay a child forever.

Much had changed since Neverland. All of the Lost Boys, including John and Michael, were off at school in the countryside. Mother and father were worried about the possibility of a war, and therefore, sent the children away.

But, Wendy was to be married. After she came back from school, she was given the entirety of the nursery and a brand new writing desk as her gifts. Instead of writing, she was presented in society and soon she was gifted a fiance.

That night, she lay in bed thinking of Adam and the life they would spend together. They would be married, she would become pregnant, and then they would raise a family together. At least, that’s what Wendy had pictured. None of which she wanted. What she had told her father was true--she wanted to be a pirate. To live life dangerously. Wendy had not been a gentle child, but society and schooling had trained her to be. What would become of her?

* * *

She awoke in a panic. Sweat poured off of her and she roused from the fog of sleep. Sitting up, Wendy swung her feet over the edge of the bed and placed her feet inside her slippers. She’d had the most vivid dream: Peter had returned. He had come to the window and was waiting for her.

When she stood and rounded the end of her bed, the window was in fact open. Her mouth dropped and the girl hurried to it.

“Peter?” She called out, looking all around outside, raindrops falling upon her as she peeked her head out.

“There’s no Peter here, my love.”

When Wendy turned around, she was confronted with eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, curly black hair and a shining silver hook.


	2. 2

“What are you doing here!?” Wendy exclaimed, turning and stepping back.

“I came to find you, Wendy Darling.” James Hook replied, tilting his head to one side. His tumultuous black curls bounced with his movement. He was freshly groomed and smelled strongly of rich cologne. In fact, Wendy believed he looked better than she had ever imagined.

“Me?”

“You have something I need.”

She continued to back away until she found the wall next to her desk. She flattened against it as Hook approached, stepping dangerously close. “I don’t have anything you need. Peter isn’t here. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“That’s precisely it. Now, come with me and I’ll explain everything once we arrive.” His hot breath raced over her turned cheek, the sharp tip of his hook tracing along the top of her lips.

“Where are we going?” Wendy turned her head carefully to stare at him once again, her smokey blue eyes meeting his.

“Neverland.”

“Put me down!” She screamed as he hoisted her over his shoulder, hurrying towards the window.

“I’m sorry, my beauty, but I truly cannot.” Wendy felt the cold rush of air over her body, clad in the thin nightgown. Just as she thought she might faint, she felt Hook jump up and out of the window. Down below in the courtyard between houses, Wendy saw her dog, Nana bark up at the night sky.

* * *

“Keeping me a prisoner on the ship will not solve the problem! Tying me up won’t help, either!” Wendy cried as the crew wound the rope tighter around the center mast.

“She’s right, cap’n. Can’t leave her tied up forever.” Smee, the goofy sailor with a red hat, piped in. His nose was bright red, as were his cheeks. Wendy felt a small comfort knowing he was on her side.

It had been hours that she was secured to the wooden mast of the Jolly Roger. Her arms and legs surely had bruises about them from where the ropes were digging in. Wendy was growing angry; it was no way to treat a lady. Her bare feet were wet from the dampness of the deck, the hem of her nightgown was covered in dirt and filth as well.

“Hook, let me go _at once_!” Wendy cried out again. Hook turned from his position on the quarter deck, behind the wheel. He put away his spyglass, shoving it into one of the inner pockets of his silk coat. The pirate stepped slowly down the stairs, approaching Wendy with his hook at the ready.

“You want to be free? Then tell a story.” He raised an eyebrow, tracing his hook along her cheekbone. Wendy turned her head as far as she could away from the man, her hair blowing about in the wind.

“If you intend to keep me here until I tell a story, I’ll be dead before long. I haven’t told a story since I left Neverland the last time.”

“We know.” Smee chimed in, removing his stocking cap. He wore a tight frown upon his face, peering up at Hook.

“Very well, then.” He took his hook, raising it up in the air. Wendy thought for certain that it would be the last time she would see the light of day. But instead, his hook came slashing down through the ropes, slicing them in two. Hook’s free hand grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the mast. They traipsed across the deck and ducked into the cabin, the door labeled: J.A.S. Hook.

“I don’t understand--why am I here? Just to tell a bloody story?” Wendy exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as soon as they entered the cabin.

Hook removed his silk coat, hanging it delicately over the back of his desk chair. He wore a simple linen shirt beneath it, ruffles at the chest and sleeves. “If you don’t tell a story, Neverland will cease to exist.”

“What?” Wendy questioned, befuddled.

“Because you haven’t been telling, nor writing, stories, Neverland has turned dark. Your happy stories kept Neverland alive. But now, a new pirate has come into the land. Captain Dorian Blackheart of the Bloody Baron. He’s deadly, Wendy.”

She had never seen the man so serious, nor so worried. “It’s not possible. I’ve never talked of a Captain Blackheart!”

“Neverland was here long before your stories were, Wendy. You just helped it along.” Hook planted himself in the chair behind his elegantly carved desk, untying the knot at his neck, loosening the purse strings of his shirt.

“So, let me understand… You’ve taken me from my home, so that I’ll tell a story and make this pirate disappear?” Wendy questioned, searching about for something to wrap around herself. She felt exposed, her nipples hard beneath her nightshirt. The air in the cabin was cool, a slight breeze seeping in from the open windows at the posterior of the room. She found a blanket upon Hook’s bed and separated it from the cotton sheets. Winding it around herself, Wendy felt much more secure and protected.

“Blackheart won’t disappear. That’s one battle I must fight on my own. But you must tell happy stories, about Peter, about the Lost Boys… Everyone. Or else they’ll grow even darker.”

“What do you mean, grow darker? Are they already dark?” Wendy asked, her eyebrows pressed downward against her eyes, confused at Hook’s words. The captain pressed his hand against the desk, shoving himself to stand. He hung his head low and let a heavy sigh escape his mouth.

“No one remembers you, Wendy. Not even Peter. And they’re not happy any longer. A war has been waged upon Neverland. You have to save us all.”


	3. 3

“How do you remember me if no one else can?”

“Because I--I’m in your thoughts.”

“You most certainly are not!” Her cheeks grew red hot from embarrassment.

Hook sighed once again, a low growl rumbling deep inside him. “Now is not the time to be embarrassed, Wendy Darling! Now is the time for action. Reach down inside of you and tell a fucking story!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me! And don’t swear,” Wendy’s voice wavered, her hands trembling as she gripped the blanket even tighter. The ship swayed beneath their feet, the young woman’s eyes widening. “Are we leaving!?”

“We’re simply moving closer. The waves are far too choppy for one to get you to shore safely.” Hook replied, his eyebrows lifted and his hook thrust outward casually.

“I don’t know if I can tell a story…” She whispered, her eyes cast downward. The ship swayed once again, this time, Wendy reached out and grabbed a hold of the bedpost to her right. She realized she hadn’t studied the cabin yet, and curiosity got the best of her.

At the center of the room was Hook’s desk, to the right, his bed, a four-post masterpiece with torn and tattered curtains hanging from the detailed wood. To the far left, across the room, was the beautiful gilded piano and settee. As well, there was a small dining area behind the desk, just before the windows. A seat, perfect for reading, she thought, sat below the windows.  
It was clad in ruby velvet pillows and dark plum blankets. It was a well-loved area, Wendy realized.

“You must tell a story. Before we get to Peter Pan, or else it won’t be the meeting you want.”

“Why? Will he be angry?”

“He’ll be angry, and he’ll be confused. Pan truly does not remember you, Wendy.”

* * *

“There once was a little boy named Peter Pan. His sworn enemy was-”

“No. Leave that part out. We’re quite friendly now,” Hook replied from behind the desk. He sat with his chin perched upon his hand, his brilliant blue eyes staring directly at her. Wendy nodded from her spot on the end of the settee.

“He had many friends, the Lost Boys, his band of fearless young lads. As well, the Indians, including their Princess Tiger Lily. Peter had another dear friend, Tinker Bell.”

“Do get on with it. We’ll be loading you into the boat soon.”

“Peter’s most dear friend, one that he didn’t see often, a young woman. Now, Wendy had grown up. She was no longer the little girl Peter had once known. She was now engaged to be married and ready to start a family of her own. This upset Peter, but he understood. And when the time came for another adventure, it would be Wendy’s children that he sought.”

“Good. Keep going.”

“Before Wendy was to be married, she was taken back to Neverland by Peter’s enem… friend, Captain James Hook. Wendy was told that Peter had forgotten Wendy because she had grown up. So, she went out to find him and restore his memory. Just as she found him, it took Peter a short moment to recognize the woman before him, but, alas, he did. Overjoyed, Peter Pan hugged Wendy and shouted with joy. He called all of the Lost Boys near to see who had returned. Even Tinker Bell showed slight joy. They all lived happily ever after. The end.”

“We’ll see if that was good enough.” Hook shrugged his eyebrows, standing. “It’s time to get on the boat and go ashore.”

* * *

The small boat slid ashore, Wendy jumping out into the shallow water. She raced up the beach and pushed through the thick tropical foliage. “Peter!” She cried out, realizing quickly that she had not waited for anyone to guide her. But, she didn’t care. Wendy needed Peter.  
“Peter! It’s me, Wendy!” She shouted, just as she tripped over a surfaced root, falling hard on her front. Just as she stood, a hand wrapped around the back of her arm and helped her up. The young woman dusted off the dirt and mud upon her nightdress, but it was far too gone. It was ruined-holes in the knees and elbows.

“Perhaps I’d better lead the way.” Captain Hook suggested, raising his eyebrows. He began to make his way through the forest, a muggy and wet air surrounding them. Wendy dodged large palm leaves, ferns, and various flowers as she stepped into a clearing that seemed all too familiar.

“Peter?” Her voice grew soft, turning around in circles as she studied the beginnings of the Lost Boys camp. Stepping forward carefully, she knelt down on the ground and held onto herself. It was the place in which they had built a house around her. Wendy smiled softly at the fond memory, despite the remembering of being shot by an arrow. A small chortle left her, but she stopped as soon as she heard the snap of leaves being stepped upon.

“Who goes there?” A tiny voice roared, a little boy appearing in the clearing. He held a miniscule bow and arrow at Hook and Wendy. “Oh Hook! It’s you.” He lowered the bow at once and raced over to the man, hugging him warmly.

“Where’s Peter?” Hook asked, the boy stepping back. He had dirt smudged across his forehead, a sign of a Lost Boy--dirty and careless. Wendy smiled at him when he looked over at her.

“Who’s that?”

“Wendy. Wendy Darling.” She piped up, a proud smile upon her face. She stood, Hook’s hand outreached to aid her.

“Peter! Come quick!”

With a happy shout and exclamation, a dark object flew through the air, flipping. He landed on a tree branch and stared down at the trio inquisitively. “Hook, you rascal. Have you finally found love!? Say it isn’t so! The nasty old man who could never be loved.” Peter Pan laughed fully, placing a hand on his belly.

“No, Peter. It’s me… Wendy.”

The smile dissolved from his face and he jumped off the branch, floating down to her. He approached with caution, his head turned to one side.

“It isn’t you… No… Wendy,” His voice was almost a whine as he inspected her. Peter walked around the young woman, lifting her hair and sniffing it, studying the beds of her fingernails. Finally, he peeked at her face and stared deep into her eyes.  
“It really is me, Peter. I’ve just… I’ve grown up.”

“How could you?”

“I had to, Peter. I couldn’t stay little forever.” Wendy replied, reaching her hand out to caress Peter’s cheek. He stepped away dramatically, wiping her touch from him.

“No. No!” He screamed, racing towards her and shoving her roughly to the ground.

“Peter,” Wendy started. But he withdrew his small knife and held it up to her throat. His face was red with anger, his eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t know any Wendy Darling. Now, go away.”

“Pan, don’t do this.” Hook urged, stepping in to intervene. He waited until the boy removed his knife. Lifting Wendy by the arm, he pulled her close and wrapped her in his coat.

“Go away!” Peter screamed, tears streaming down his face.

“Come Wendy,” Hook placed his arm around her arm and urged her to leave.

“Peter, please!” Wendy cried one last time, before Hook pulled her away.

As they traveled through the forest, Hook held onto Wendy, the girl leaning into him for support: both emotional and physical. Soon, they were out of the forest and on the boat. It took Smee very little time to paddle back. While aboard the ship, a heavy thunderstorm blew through. Rain began to fall with large drops upon the crew. The girl shivered beneath Captain Hook’s coat, clad in only her nightdress.

As they climbed up the side of the ship, Wendy contemplated jumping off into the tumultuous sea. However, she climbed aboard with the help of the crew. As she stepped onto the deck, they all backed away, removing their caps. Hook finally boarded, the crew clearing a path for him. His hand reached out for the young woman, taking her forearm with his gloved hand.

“Wendy,” Hook started, but Wendy pushed past him and stepped into the cabin. She settled herself at the window seat, curled into a tight ball as she sat looking out the back of the ship.

“Please, leave me.”

“Wendy,”

“If you’re going to tell me that you warned me, I don’t want to hear it. Please, the wound is already gaping. I don’t need you to make it bigger.” Wendy uttered, pulling her knees tighter to her chest.

Hook sighed, approaching. “You’ll freeze to death if you don’t change out of those clothes.”

“Good.”

“Now, you can’t die, because then no one will be able to tell stories.” Hook replied, tilting his head with a fatherly know.

“Well, do you have any suggestions on what I should wear? It’s not as if you have any-” Wendy paused. Before her, Hook had opened a trunk. An enormous amount of fine silk dresses, mens’ clothes and shoes filled the leather trunk. Wendy climbed to her feet.

“They’re… From the villages and towns we’ve pillaged. I planned on selling them for gold. But instead, you’re going to use them.”

“That’s… That’s so kind, Hook.” Wendy hovered over the trunk and reached in, selecting a fine dress.

“There’s everything you’ll need… Whatever undergarments women wear… It’s all yours.”

Wendy searched further, finding a chemise and corset. She forewent the hoopskirt resting at the bottom. “Thank you… Do you mind if I change?”

Wendy waited for Hook to step out before she raised her arms to let the skirt of the dress slide over. Next, Wendy found a men’s nightshirt in the corner of the trunk and pulled it on, tucking it into the skirt. It was the most comfortable thing she could afford without a corset. And she refused a corset--yes, she was a lady, but she was no lady in Neverland. A pair of stockings fit her nicely, rolling up to her thigh. Wendy was ready to stand when there was a knock at the door.

James Hook stepped inside, just as Wendy let her skirts down.

“I don’t have any shoes.”

“I believe we can help with that… We had a sailor years earlier with very… Erm, small feet. But they’re boots. Will that suffice?”

“What happened to the sailor?” Wendy questioned, her eyes narrowed at Hook.

“He walked the plank, as did most of our visitors at one time.”  
Wendy sighed, but graciously accepted the gift of the boots. It would have to suffice. She pulled the boots on over her stockings, and they fit perfectly. Standing, the girl searched in the box and found the makings of a men’s jacket, pulling it over her skirt and nightshirt.

“Very well, then.” Hook stated, looking the girl over. Just as his eyes met hers, Wendy pulled her long, red-blonde hair from beneath the jacket. Her curls bounced over her shoulders, her smokey-blue eyes catching the glance from Hook.


End file.
